THE LEGEND OF ST. HUBERT. DARK was that troublous season, when the sway While, of the pious few who raised the hand Some fell by arrow-flight, and some by brand, In Arden forest then a chieftain dwelled, Whose sires from eldest time had heathen been. This chieftain was a hunter keen and bold, And with the moon uprose the wolf's harsh coil; One Autumn morn this Baron took his spear, But, jewelled 'neath the morning's plenteous dew, The mellow leaf doth royal livery wear ; Bright amber, crimson rich, and orient blue, Two stalwart hounds before him questing bayed, To hunter's ear than this deep-throated song! With slow and sure pursuit they tracked along; Near to the ground their nostrils broad they bend, And nearer still their flapping ears descend. Now toiling to the hill-top's rugged brow The hunter cheers their constant spirit on; Now downward to the deep ravine below, They leap o'er stunted bush, and shivered stone : A rapid stream across the crail doth flow They plunge and now the opposing bank is won. Nor long at fault by thwarting stream are they, But find, and track again their dappled prey. A pathless heath extends before their speed, Nearer and nearer comes the crowding cry. Observes her failing step and straining eye :Now baying loud and deep, the foremost hound Is at her haunches with a single bound. For refuge toward the woody fringe she hies, Close gathering, thunder on with voice of death. For the last plunge each desperate nerve she strains, And, yet unharmed, the sheltering thicket gains. With slacker foot, along its tangled way, The hounds pursue, and much in her distress Availeth her the briars' short delay; For now, arousing from her weariness, She heads them on to where a sudden bay Of open greensward spreads its fair recess; A stag of peerless form and noble height, But, on the centre of his branched brow The sacred symbol of A CROss he wearsGolden it is not-gold ne'er glittered so Liker the sun's meridian glance appears The radiance of that bright miraculous glow, Mocking all earthly splendour. Proudly rears The stag his stately brow, while his dark eye Upon the hunter gazes placidly. Then he from his astonished courser kneels, Bending his brow in awful reverence Before that symbol; and forthwith he feels His heart awaked from its long paynim trance ; Nor rises he 'till gracious Heaven reveals The faith to his benighted ignorance ; And, ere his wondrous visitant hath gone, An erring soul from death to life is won. And left he from that blessed time for ever, For he became a Christian Anchorite :- TRAVELS IN THE TYROL. BY HENRY D. INGLIS, THERE is one leading object for which we open books of travels. It is to learn something of the labouring classes; those who form the aggregate and groundwork of society in the different European and Transatlantic communities, and who are presumed to be less favourably situated than the British people, in laws, civil and religious institutions, and commercial advantages. It was for this object we lately followed Mr. Stuart across the Atlantic, and for this we have now been led by Mr. Inglis into the valleys of the Tyrol. An intelligent guide, and thoroughly goodhumoured, lively companion we have once more found him. Of all modern travellers, he is the one we are the most disposed to envy. His peregrinations are full of the best relishes of life. They are joyous escapades from its toils and cares; hilarious school-boy holidays, each a month long, and from morn to even sunshine. Even his favourite mode of progression is delightful, faring forth in the free and hardy spirit of pedestrianism, and throwing the reins to an imagination which naturally inclines to the more romantic tracks; to breasting the hill, or plunging into the valley, following the by-ways of adventure, into scenes which have rarely been visited by the ordinary tourist, and among people still wearing the fresh impress of primitive society. What a treasure of delightful recollections might not one lay up in a series of such rambles! It is but a small portion of his good things that the pedestrian traveller, limited to chapters and pages, is able to impart to his readers, how generous so ever he may be, when every league is marked by some charming though incommunicable adventure, and every sunrise and sunset, upon a new scene, contributes a fresh picture to the rich gallery of memory. We must, however, be grateful for such glimpses as we can obtain at second-hand, without personal inconvenience, and thankfully acknowledge that there is a prodigious difference between exploring the valleys of the Tyrol, through the agreeable medium of Mr. Inglis's attractive pages, and knowing nothing whatever of that fine region, and of the noble and free-hearted people of which it is the home. To return to our more immediate purpose, we find Mr. Inglis drawing his first direct comparison between the peasantry of England and those of the Continent, in travelling through Champagne. It is in most respects to the advantage of England. The country women are handsomer in England, and bear fewer traces of field-labour. There is less furniture in the French than the English cottages, and the villages have a less cheerful air, the doors being shut and the women and children at work in the fields. Of the condition of the agriculturists of Alsasce and Lorrain we have this ac count: "The farmers are all proprietors,and all the proprietors farmers. Such properties run from four acres up to 200: when they exceed this quantity, the proprietor then usually farms out a part of his land: about one-fifth part of the produce goes to Government in the shape of taxes. The best land will return five per cent. when let, and the rent is paid in produce,-a half or two-thirds, or one-third, according to the quality of the soil. Horses fit for farm service, cost from £8 to £10. A farm servant receives £10, or £12 a-year; a day labourer is paid 1s. 3d. per day, excepting in the time of hay, or vintage, when he receives 1s. 6d. and as much wine as he chooses to drink; female servants including cooks, receive from £4 to £6; the keep of a horse costs about £12 per annum, and there is no tax of any kind, either upon horses or servants. "Upon inquiring how much land might suffice for the support of a man and his family, I found that, upon six acres, a man might live comfortably, eating fresh meat twice a-week. No proprietor having less than 150 acres, ever lets it out of his own hand,-nor, with property to this extent, does he consider himself above holding the plough, which is invariably a wheel plough, drawn by two horses. "Besides grain, there are two important articles of produce in Alsasce and Lorrain, tobacco and madder; these are both extremely profitable to the cultivator; the former pays to Government £4 upon every cwt." What follows gives a less favourable idea of the agriculture of Alsasce ; and it will, we believe, be found to hold universally, that where the domestic animals are in very bad condition, the comforts of their owners are low in the social scale. "The cattle are of the most miserable description; there is no pasture land; and the cows receive a scanty and unwholesome nourishment, from the rank grass and weeds that grow in the ditches by the way-side; every few hundred yards along the road, women may be seen employed in cutting, and carrying away this coarse herbage. Nor are the horses throughout this part of France better provided for,-they are generally very wretched creatures,-small, lank, and ill-fed." From Strasburg, Mr. Inglis made an excursion into the Vosges Mountains, which we agree with him in thinking the most interesting region of France; if beauty of scenery and the charm of simple and primeval manners are valued. "It was," he says, "on the second day after leaving Strasburg, "And when I had penetrated into the heart of the mountains, that on a delicious evening, I looked down upon a village called, I think Rannes, one straggling street, suspended over the brawling stream that watered the little valley, and overtopped by the ruins of two, no doubt, rival castles. I inquired for an Auberge: but there are no inns in the Vosges, for there are no travellers; and uncertain how the night was to be spent, my pace had gradually waxed slower, till it came to a dead halt,-when an old, respectable-looking man, coming from the vine-covered porch of a house opposite, asked me if I was a stranger;—and learning my difficulty, he offered me the hospitalities of his house. "It was a patriarchal establishment; and there might be seen all the domestic virtues, reverence for age,-indulgence for youth,-motherly love,-sisterly and brotherly affection. I was received, as strangers were received of old, before the inhabitants of cities had carried their refinements,-perhaps their corruptions, into the lands of simplicity and hospitality. How equally flowed the stream of life, in this seclusion! what a picture of peace and serenity!—And yet, to one whose scenes of life are shifted every day, and who is accustomed to men and cities, it is rather a painful, at all events, a regretful sensation that is awakened by the contemplation of life without variety, and, as it would seem, almost without enjoyment. "The old man, whose head was frosted over with eighty winters, and his spouse, seemingly as aged, sat during the evening at the door, upon two seats formed of plaited vine twigs, watching silently the labour of their progeny. Their son, a healthy man, of perhaps forty years, was digging little troughs at the roots of his vines; while two boys, of about ten and twelve years old, carried pitchers of water from a neighbouring spring. The old man's daughter-in-law was within the house, preparing supper, and pleasing as she best could, a little pet of three or four years old, that sat upon a stool, eating cherries. But the gem, the chief figure in the group, was the grand-daughter, who stood upon the threshold with her arms crossed, having just returned from a visit to the neighbouring cottage of a married sister. In skirting a portion of the territory of Wurtemberg, on his route to Bavaria, Mr. Inglis thus notices the appearance of the people : "I was much pleased with the apparently comfortable condition of the Wurtemburgers; the market and country people were well dressed, and to all appearance, well fed; and there was an air of contentment and good humour in almost every countenance, that was strongly contrasted in my memory, with the haggard and thinking countenances of the manufacturing population of both France and England. "The cottages by the way-side were very numerous,-and in their materials and construction, were all respectable: I noticed that all the houses, small and great, were tiled, and numerous red-tiled cottages certainly produce an agreeable and warm effect when thickly scattered over a country,-and are connected in our minds with comfort and respectability. This, if we remember aright, was also the opinion of Rousseau ; who denounces the cold gloomy slate; but the fact in this country is, we suspect, just the reverse-with the dark material, we associate ideas of warmth, wealth and endurance. Mr. Inglis was delighted with the roads in Bavaria; and rather unceremoniously pulls out one of the proudest plumes of the British wing. "It is quite a mistake to suppose that good roads are to be found only in England;" and he boasts of the roads of Bavaria, Switzerland, the Tyrol, the Netherlands, Sweden, and even Spain. He must at least give us up the best paid Surveyors-General. We pass Mr. Inglis's profound disquisition on "the matrimonial chamber," as a standard of the morals of countries, and demur to his unfavourable suspicions of the Swiss. He is agreeably surprised with Augsburg, and charmed with Munich, and the holiday dresses of the women, who sparkle in brocaded satin and silver, and gilt-waisted gowns. There is one capital, though homely objection to this picturesque finery which appears to have escaped the traveller. It is too expensive to be renewed; and worse still, it won't wash. Of the prison discipline of Munich, of which so much has been said, we have some interesting, and really important details; which, were we a people less wise in our own conceit, might afford us a lesson where one is much wanted. "I was greatly pleased by a visit to the prison of Munich. The principle of this excellently regulated establishment is, that every one in it gains his own bread. Every prisoner is obliged to work at his own trade, so that there is no kind of handicraft that is not going on within the prison walls. It is like a general manufactory carpenters, blacksmiths, saddlers, tailors, shoemakers, dyers, all are seen plying their trades: but no one is forced to work beyond what is necessary for his sustenance; whatever he gains by his labour more than suffices to maintain him, is kept until the term of his imprisonment expires; and is then given to him, deducting a quota for the expenses of the establishment. There is a separate workshop, allotted to each trade; the prisoners work in company, and are permitted to converse upon allowed topics-overseers being of course present. Shortly before I visited the prison, a man whose term of punishment had expired, received no less than 800 florins (about £83 Sterling) upon leaving the prison. Criminals who are admitted at so early an age as not to have yet learned a trade, are permitted to make choice of one, which is taught to them. Women (who are rigorously separated from the male prisoners) follow their trades also; we see embroidery, stocking-weaving, straw-hat making and plaiting, and all the other kinds of labour in which women are engaged; women who have been servants before, are servants stiil,-cooks are cooks,-housemaids housemaids. In fact, the interior service of the prison is performed by the criminals, and all their wants are supplied by themselves, or their neighbours. I tasted the soup and meat in the kitchen, and the bread in the bakehouse, and found both excellent. "The proceeds of the sale of articles made in the prison, (i. e. the surplus remaining after the expenses of the establishment have been paid, and the prisoners maintained,) to be kept for the benefit of the prisoners themselves, generally amounts to nearly 50,000 florins, upwards of L.6,000 per annum-a sum which, properly apY VOL. III.NO. XV. |